


Last Of The Real Ones

by craneboi



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 06:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craneboi/pseuds/craneboi
Summary: Caw!Deeper than water, thicker than blood.Caw!It's not too late.





	Last Of The Real Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I deleted that one fic. I have around 30 different drafts of fics that I've thought of, but I always get super distracted. I'll try to update every week or two.

What a great way to start the day. Throwing a tantrum in a deserted park.  
Well, I don't know if it was deserted when I got here or not; all I know now is that no one is here except me and this creepy crow.  
I want it to go away, but I'm afraid of it leaving me. Complicated, I know. Right now, though, my mind is fuzzy with rage.  
You see, I live in a world where a handful of us have powers. Very few people are born with an ability. Never one ability more than once, but some people can share aspects. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that omnipotent are rare.  
Obviously, since there's so few of them, people are afraid. And we all know what fear leads to.  
There are laws against them. Yes, you read correctly; laws against people just trying to live ordinary lives. Innocent children are murdered constantly because the government is afraid of their power. It's absolutely disgusting. Now, you're probably asking how that relates to my tantrum in the park.  
Hiding who you are for ten years really takes toll on a person.  
Every child who reaches the age of fifteen is screened for the DNA all the omnipotent have in common. One little gene that makes them stand out. I still have nightmares from when I was screened.  
Of course, I'm twenty-three now, but using my ability in that way- to control someone in such a manor... well, knowing how dangerous you can be is scary.  
My ability is more dangerous than most can comprehend. But what's so dangerous about being able to control liquids? Seems harmless, right? Other than the obvious fact that I could drown anyone at my will; my ability is deeper than water.  
It's as thick as blood.  
I still remember the way the innocent tester had looked. I had to manipulate her blood. Coax her into listening; make her fear the consequences of what might happen if she didn't cooperate.  
When I control blood, I can do many things. I can force people to move without their consent. I can whisper things to people in that lucid state, triggering something close to adrenaline because they can hear the blood pumping in their ears. Fight or flight kicks in, and I basically have control. I could stop their heart if I wanted to.  
But I wouldn't. I'd rather speed up someone's healing process than drain the life out of them.  
I can control other things than blood and water. Basically, anything that is a liquid.  
_Caw!_  
That pesky crow again. Feels like it's been following me everywhere. I look around to make sure no one can see me. I coax a little rain out of the clouds to get drench it.  
I've calmed down by this. I love storms. You know that feeling when you were a little kid laying in bed while a storm went on and you thought you could control its intensity? I could actually do that.  
My parents could never know, though. They already hated me for being gay. If they knew, they'd have me arrested in the blink of an eye.  
The crow makes an irritated noise, obviously upset about the sudden downpour. It flies close to me, perching itself on a bench just feet away from me.  
I blink, to make sure it's really that close, but I'm met with something bigger than a crow.  
A boy with raven black hair and whiskey brown eyes whispers, " _Shit_."  
I blink again, and I see a crow flying away.  
"Wait!" I yell. "I won't hurt you..." A sudden sadness erupts in my stomach.  
It wasn't the first time I've met someone who was gifted. My ex and his little brother are. Or were... I'm not even sure if they're still alive. My ex, Gerard, could control heat, and his little brother, Mikey, could control the cold.  
I never told them what I could do. Gerard showed me his power once. Accidentally, of course, but I swore not to tell. Not that I ever would.  
I'm still watching the boy- or crow, I guess- fly away when I hear it.  
A shot rings out across the field. The same field the crow was flying over. I see him fall out of the sky, and start running. I hone in my senses. I can track him, since he's still in bird state.  
The tiny heartbeat starts shifting to to something bigger, I can feel it. He's injured but I can't tell how bad without seeing him.  
I make a few twists and turns, and finally find the field I'm looking for. A dark figure lays crumpled in the grass. I rush over to him. Someone did this on purpose; they must've saw him at the park. Which means if they hadn't already started tracking him, I could've been seen. This is really bad.  
I'm relieved to find him conscious. I try to roll him over but he groans in pain.  
"If you don't let me see your wound, then you're going to have to shift into something I can carry," I hiss at him. He blinks at me, but turns over.  
He's only been grazed. I sigh in relief, and start pushing his body's natural healing process. Luckily, he's healthy, so he is healed in a matter of minutes.  
He sits up, clutching the side that was shot. "But I was.. what?" He's confused. But there's no time for that. He's been seen and so have I.  
"Yes, you were shot, and I can explain everything later, but now, if we don't book it, we're both dead. Got me?" He nods. "Now follow."  
I start running in the direction of my apartment., making little detours to throw whoever is hunting him off of our trail. I stop a block away, letting us catch our breath. I then continue walking like we weren't just running for our lives.  
I reach the building I live in. The doorman winks at me, noticing my company.  
"Evening, Patrick," he says in a polite tone.  
"Evening, Brendon. How's the family?" I say, making quick conversation.  
"Great as always, sir."  
I walk past him, with a confused stranger behind me. I tag the elevator's up button, and pull the man in when it opens. I live on the top floor, so we have a minute.  
"What the fuck was that?" He asks, finally.  
"I'm not even completely sure, myself." I sigh. What have I gotten into? All those years of keeping quiet, and now I've gone and aroused suspicion.  
The doors of the elevator open and I grab his hand, leading him to my apartment. I notice a familiar callus, one normally achieved by playing a guitar of some sort. Patrick, now is not the time to be creepy. Get it together.  
I unlock the door to my apartment and shove him in.  
"Careful!" He hisses. "I'm more fragile than I look," he says rubbing his arm.  
I close the door and lock it, hoping we shook the hunter off our trail. "Um... feel free to sit wherever," I say, gesturing at my couch. He sits down and I join him.  
"So, Patrick," he says, trying out my name. "What was that all about?"  
"Someone shot you," I say dumbly. "I, um, I saw from the park. I found you and helped you."  
"I'm not just talking about the hunters. They've been after me for years. What did you do... here," he says, gesturing to his side.  
"I healed you..." I whisper.  
He thinks this over. "Well, thank you for that." He looks at the time. "I guess I should be on my way."  
"Wait, what's your name?" I ask.  
"P-" He's interrupted by a knock at the door.  
I open the door to find two police men.  
"Is this the residence of Patrick Martin Vaugn Stumph?" One asks. The other nudges the first cop, pointing at the man.  
I shift in the doorway, attempting to hide him. "Yes, what brings you by, officers?"  
"You are under arrest for aiding a runaway omnipotent, and for hiding your own abilities from the law."  
The second one whips out an odd looking pair of handcuffs. I'm too stunned to even put up a fight. "You do not have the right to a trial by jury. You do not have the right to remain silent, but anything you say can and will be held against you." I see the man I helped put up a struggle. In the end, he gets cuffed.  
I finally regain my senses, and try to use my ability. Something stops me, though. I'm sure it's the cuffs.  
My brain starts to panic. I can't even use my ability to calm myself down. I remember before I learned how to control it, Iwould get anxiety so bad I would throw up. It's been so long since I've had this pressure suffocationg me.  
I try to focus on the other man. His efforts are in vain. Even if he escaped, there'd be nowhere to run. The officers push us into the hallway, and I feel a tear escape my eye. But I hold my head up high; I refuse to bow in shame from something I can't help.  
I know what they do to people like me. They brand us where we are captured, in front of the public. As we are pushed into the elavator, my brain goes hazy.  
"Psst. Patrick," the guy whispers. I look up, and one of the officers pushes him.  
"Hey, be quiet."  
"You told us we didn't have the right to remain silent, so I'm not gonna remain silent." He sticks his tongue out at me.  
I chuckle a little. " _Patrickkkk_ ," he whispers again.  
"What," I whisper back.  
"Don't be sad. We'll get through it together. I promise the story doesn't end here. Thanks for helping." He winks at me. Except the wink implies that means more than he said. I shoot him a confused look, but he just shushes me in response.  
The elavator dings and opens. I see Brendon to the side, talking on what appears to be a walkie-talkie, but when he sees the officers, he quickly pulls it out of sight. He then bows his head. The police make us walk to the middle of the room before one heads out to their car to grab the brand.  
He comes back with it. It automatically heats, and as I look at it I notice it's O-shaped. They lift up my shirt first and lines the iron with my collar bone. This is going to hurt.  
He presses it into my pale skin and a high screech pulls itself from my throat. Tears drop down my face as the soaring pain ceases to a constant hum. I heave another sob as they pull up the other man's shirt. He's already branded.  
Suddenly, his cuffs fall to the ground. Just as the police are about to grab him, they're shot with tranq darts from nowhere. My cuffs follow, and the man ushers me to the side. The man looks at Brendon, "You couldn't have done that any faster? It hurts like hell to get branded." My body tries to heal itself, but a scar is left. There's only so much I can do.  
"I'm just glad I have my powers back. It's healed now."  
The man stares at me shock in his eyes. "You're a strong one. I can't believe you've been hiding for so long. Color me impressed."  
"Can I ask what just happened?" I look nervously at Brendon, realizing he's here."You aren't gonna turn us in are you?"  
The man laughs and Brendon smiles. "I'd never dream of it. I do not want to get on your bad side." He leans in closer, "Plus, that'd be a teensy bit hypocratic." He points at a plant in the lobby and it wilts. Then it grows healthy again.  
"So that's why the lobby's always so well-groomed," I realise.  
"So, we never formally met. My name is Pete; Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third, at your service." He bows as two more people, appearing from nowhere, walk up to us.  
"Andy, Joe! Thanks for the help." The red head just nods in response as the curly haired one walks up to Brendon. Pete looks at me, "This is Patrick. Patrick, this is Andy. He's our metalworker. That's Joe, with the curly hair. He can use a shadowcloak. You just saw Brendon's botanical capabilities. I'm a shifter; I can turn into about any animal, but I typically stick to a crow. Doesn't take as much effort. The only thing I can't figure out is your power..."  
"I can control liquids." I answer without explaining.  
"How did you heal me and yourself, then?" He quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms.  
"I, uh, I can control people by messing with the liquids in their body. I don't like doing that though; usually I just egg on whatever the body needs to heal faster."  
"I hate to break it to you guys," Joe cuts in, "but we're running out of time."  
Andy speaks up. "Pete, do you think you can handle bringing Patrick back with us? I trust Brendon has his own plan."  
"What do you mean bring me back with you? Don't I get a say?"  
"Well, you're now branded. So all the police in town now know that you, Patrick Martin Vaugn Stump, are an Omni. But if you want a choice, I'll lay it out for you. You stay here, you get caught. You come with me, I can protect you. You run off, you decide your fate."  
Something compels me to stick with Pete. "When you put it like that-" Sirens cut me off.  
"And with that, boys, we are out of time," Joe says, taking Andy's arm making both disappear.  
"Go!" Brendon says, "To the roof, it's your best chance." We run off in the direction of the elevator. "Take the stairs, the elevator will be the first thing they shut off. Now run!"  
We run to the stairwell. "Is now a bad time to mention I have asthma?"  
"Get on my back." Pete says.  
"What? No!"  
"I'll turn into an ant and carry you. You don't look like you weigh that much anyway. One-sixty-five?"  
"One-sixty," I huff. "Ants can't carry that much though."  
"This ant can. Shapeshifting rules are weird. Now come on, we don't have the time." I straddle his back, which turns into a terrifyingly big thorax, and Pete carries me up the stairs. We reach the top of the roof. I hop off of him and step back a bit, shaking off the heebie-jeebies.  
"Aw, does Pattycakes have a problem with bugs?"  
"No, your mandibles are just freakishly big." If an ant could wink, I'm very sure Pete just did.  
He shifts back to human form. "Do you think you'll be able to jump?"  
"Yeah, why- no, there's no way we are doing that Peter." His grin gets bigger and he nods his head.  
"I'll hold your hand," he offers. I sigh, taking his palm. "Here we go!" We jump to the next building together, then each building until we're clear. When we reach it, we climb down the later on the side.  
"That... was kinda cool." I admit when I get to the bottom.  
"Well, I'm glad yo-" He slips off the latter, but I catch him. "Had fun..." He trails off, looking into my eyes.  
"I should put you down," I say, looking away after a few seconds.  
"Yeah, yeah," he adds the second like he's convincing himself. "We still have a bit to go."  
As Pete takes the lead, I wonder why he reacted like that.  
We walk the edges of the alleys. I feel the awkward silence settle over us, so I try to think about a way around it. I'm struck with an idea.  
I make a little rain cloud and send it towards Pete. It hovers over his head and comically soaks his bangs. I giggle a little, but he turns around so I act innocent. He turns into a crow before my eyes and starts chasing me.  
"Hey! Give me a break, asshole!" I laugh.  
"Who's there?" Someone yells down the alley.  
" _Shit_ ," I mutter, and duck behind a trash can.  
_Caw!_  
"Oh, just a bird. Must be hearing things lately." Whoever it is turns away.  
Pete, as a crow, swoops into my lap behind the dumpster. He shifts back to human the moment he touches down. When he's fully human, he's basically straddling my legs. He looks in my eyes again and leans closer than before, but suddenly he turns his head to the side, coughing up a feather.  
I laugh at him and shove him. I stand up and brush the dirt off me, then offer him a hand.  
He takes it. "Wanna play twenty-questions?" he asks.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it!  
> ~crane.boi


End file.
